Zeus and the Giant Iced Tea: Poetry

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 1

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 2

12/01/11 5:19 PM

ZEUS and the

GIANT ICED TEA

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 3

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Mingling Voices Series editor: Manijeh Mannani Give us wholeness, for we are broken. But who are we asking, and why do we ask?

—  Phyllis Webb National in scope, Mingling Voices draws on the work of both new and established novelists, short story tellers, and poets. The series especially, but not exclusively, aims to promote authors who challenge traditions and cultural stereotypes. It is designed to reach a wide variety of readers, both generalists and specialists. Mingling Voices is also open to literary works that delineate the immigrant experience in Canada. Series Titles Poems for a Small Park by E.D. Blodgett Dreamwork by Jonathan Locke Hart Windfall Apples: Tanka and Kyoka by Richard Stevenson The dust of just beginning by Don Kerr Roy & Me: This Is Not a Memoir by Maurice Yacowar

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 4

12/01/11 5:19 PM

POEMS BY

LEOPOLD M cGINNIS

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 5

12/01/11 5:19 PM

2011 Leopold McGinnis Published by AU Press, Athabasca University 1200, 10011 – 109 Street Edmonton, AB T5J 3S8 Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication McGinnis, Leopold, 1977– Zeus and the giant iced tea / by Leopold McGinnis. (Mingling voices series, ISSN 1917-9405) Poems. Also issued in electronic format (ISBN 978-1-897425-95-4). ISBN 978-1-897425-94-7 I. Title. II. Series: Mingling voices PS8625.G56Z49 2011

C811’.6

C2010-907660-5

Cover and book design by Natalie Olsen, Kisscut Design. Printed and bound in Canada by Marquis Book Printing. We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund (CBF) for our publishing activities. This publication is licensed under a Creative Commons License, Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 Canada: see www.creativecommons.org. The text may be reproduced for non-commercial purposes, provided that credit is given to the original author. To obtain permission for uses beyond those outlined in the Creative Commons license, please contact AU Press, Athabasca University, at [email protected]. A volume in the Mingling Voices series: ISSN 1917-9405 (Print) ISSN 1917-9413 (Online)

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 6

12/01/11 5:19 PM

for mama simply, thanks

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 7

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 8

12/01/11 5:19 PM

xi 3 7 9 14 23 25

Why Zeus and the Giant Iced Tea?

The city Robert’s Prison A Good Day The Big Shot Zeus and the Giant Iced Tea On the Trail of Ibn Battuta

The Three Amigos

28 30 32

El Mexicano

39 41 59 61 62 63

In the vault of the keeper of dreams

The Two Xs The Muscle

The Secret Ask the ’stache The Method In the Dojo Who’s going to fulfill my unreasonable expectations?

The Sultan Poems

66 68 72 74 77 80 84 87

The Sultan’s Heart In the Petticoat’s Palace The Sultan’s Epiphany In Petticoat’s Kingdom By Day Beneath In Search of Another Ending Her Return

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 9

12/01/11 5:19 PM

89 91 94 95 96 100 103 107 113 115 121

Where the Garden Used to Be

128 129 131 136 141 143 144 147 148 150 151 152 155

Best Before

159 165 167

Some Thoughts on Some Poems

A Gift for Rats and Spiders The Sandstorm What the rat reads in the corner of the dungeon They Tremble By Night The Palace’s Story He Sees Water in the Desert She Leaves a Poem in His Parapet Look Upon This with Full Eyes, Prince The Sultan Wakes

Just the Handshake The Drop The Urn The Big Thaw The Failed Experiment All Your Questions The Last Generation The Great Indian Crash landing Restart? A brief history of Gandhi We  Robot

Special Thanks About the Author

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 10

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Why ZEUS AND THE GIANT ICED TEA? This is the story about a series of stories. I don’t write poems for publication. I just write them. For myself, typically. So when it comes down to having to assemble all your eating-Wheaties-at-breakfast poems, your depressed-out-of-your-little-pea-sized-brain poems, your god-damn-I’m-horny-as-hell-poems and your hey-wouldn’t-it-be-cool-to-write-a-poem-aboutthis? poems into a cohesive collection, well . . . how do you go about that exactly? It’s not so easy. Maybe some artists (and I know some like this) can just grab a handful out of a drawer, pop ’em in a whirlyque, spin ’em around, collate them and voilà! Une collection. But I’m way too anal for that. My first collection of poems wasn’t so bad to assemble . . . thanks to lack of experience. I’d never expected my poetry to find publication in book form. Considering how underwhelmingly my fictional work fared, it was just too unlikely for me to entertain much fantasy on the subject of a published book of poetry. And yet, through some coalescence of connections, luck, hard work, and (dare I say it?) talent, I found myself having to put together my first collection of poems. But, like I said, that wasn’t too bad. I saw Poetaster, my first book, as an introduction to me and my work. As such, I just gathered up all my poems and picked out eighty I liked the best, keeping some eye to how they worked together. Poetaster was essentially

xi

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 11

12/01/11 5:19 PM

a thematic sampling of the diverse sort of work I’d done up to that point. A “Hello World” grab bag. That was the “concept.” But what to do when you’re asked to put together a SECOND collection? I didn’t really want to do “Random Poetry by Leopold McGinnis, Part 2.” I’d introduced myself; now I had to do something different. You know . . .  razzle-dazzle ‘em. But how? After my first publication I’d started looking at poetry books in a different way. Not just in passive enjoyment, but more in a “Why did they pick these poems, and how did they organize them together?” spirit. There were plenty of random collections, but I grew increasingly intrigued by the books that presented a number of poems strung together by some common thread. I liked the idea of doing an entire collection on one theme . . . but because of the vagrant nature of my writing I wasn’t sure I had enough poetry on any one topic to make a book. And a not-so-quick hands-on assessment proved I was correct on that front. (I’m getting to the “why this book is called Zeus and the Giant Iced Tea” bit. Just bear with me for a sec.) But as I was slogging through my stuff I realized that I had quite a number of poems that were not thematically similar but formatically similar, to invent a word. Narratives! They were all aiming to tell a story of some kind, in their own interesting and unusual ways. Even better, when joined together, they formed a sort of Voltron team of poetics — their collective grouping bringing something new to the poems themselves, adding layers of meaning and excellent

x ii

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 12

12/01/11 5:19 PM

other powers that I couldn’t take credit for creating. Shouldn’t any good collection raise the individual pieces within to higher levels, open up a new horizon of understanding above and beyond the parts? What good is a giant robot if you can’t combine that giant robot with six other giant robots to create a super giant robot? Not much, I tell you! The interesting thing for me about this collection is what it explores in terms of the narrative format both intentionally and unintentionally. These are all story-structured poems. However, together they take us on a tour through a zoo of forms. Some poems here are almost short stories in poetry format. In “The Secret,” I could be accused of just taking a short story and inserting copious line breaks. Others are autobiographical — “The Big Shot,” for instance. Some are realistic, many are dreamlike. Some follow a traditional narrative structure of beginning, middle, end, moral. Others just hint at a brief piece of a bigger story. Despite all being poems, they represent a wide variety of stories and ways of telling a story. None of these poems aims to talk about narratives or ostensibly play with the narrative format. And yet, as a group, they do. I like that. It’s like a poetry playground — put ’em together and see how it comes out. Even more interesting, this collection posed to me the question: “When is a narrative a narrative?” That is, how do you decide when a poem is a narrative? Even a plotless poem about feeling sad is on some level a story, whether explicit or not. A descriptive poem about a flower implies a story. Why this flower?

x iii

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 13

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Where is it? Why is the poet driven to talk about this flower? So when it came time to start deciding what did and did not qualify for Zeus, I had to make tough decisions. “The Secret” obviously qualifies . . . but poems like “Who’s going to fulfill my unreasonable expectations?” and “The Last Generation” were not so cut-and-dried. There are no obvious story lines there . . . Anyway, I put a lot of thought into this, and in the end, for one reason or another, I decided that all the poems in this book met the criteria, however vague, for narrative. This in itself was a fun exercise, and perhaps one the reader might find entertaining to consider while reading through the collection. Which brings me to why this collection is called Zeus and the Giant Iced Tea. Mostly it’s because I needed a name for the collection, and Zeus and the Giant Iced Tea was the poem title that, if put on the cover of a book, seemed most likely to encourage someone to pick the book up and take a look. I mean . . . that would grab my attention! But I also feel that the poems in this collection sort of follow Zeus’s dreamy train of thought in that poem. These poems move from one kind of story to the next, as one thought might move to the next in a daydream. There’s no wholesale conclusion, just a lovely voyage, like a trip through the Tunnel of Love, where you pop out the other end hopefully feeling all warm and fuzzy and having added a few smooches to your belt. Anyway, that’s the story. I hope you enjoy the collection. — Leopold McGinnis

xiv

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 14

12/01/11 5:19 PM

ZEUS AND THE GIANT ICED TEA

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 1

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 2

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The city and in a dream the voice from above said I can give you this dream of eternity if you know that you can never have it and before him he saw a city of such vast expanse and vibrancy that it lay home to a million million families in a million million generations all in testament to him and his dreams and his dream families’ dreams and their dreams spreading out towards the perimeter of forever forever growing and he saw a network of streets more complex and beautiful than any spider’s web glistening in the midday sun with a million million shops hustling and bustling in place like flies trapped for dinner and in the centre of the city

3

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 3

12/01/11 5:19 PM

grew an enormous spire the palatial centre of this fantasy anchoring everything in place and on each level were a thousand rooms and up and up and up more than a thousand stories the dream reaching out to a sky with no limit no conclusion and even though it was so high that there could be no top to it and even if you could ever stand on its ever growing peak you’d never see the edge of the city stretching into infinity And in his dream he knew that his dream had built all this! Then a brick falls from the tower in his dream then one more and one more and one more and then a million million bricks raining down like dust when a sea of sand from some unknown desert

4

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 4

12/01/11 5:19 PM

starts to sweep through the streets submerging this spider’s web in dust and dunes and people frozen in place become buried in houses as it all crumbles erasing years and years of dreams as if they never existed as if they never meant anything at all crushing lives as if nothing ever held them up swallowing the dream whole and stamping it out for eternity struggling as they might to keep back this fate the city crumbles in their hands like trying to hold onto sand as if it held some shape as if it had a will to be held and him knowing at the end as it all flicks away in a speck of dust that it none of it the dream, the tower, the collapse ever actually existed and knowing all this the voice from above asks

5

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 5

12/01/11 5:19 PM

knowing that eternity is only a dream for mortals meant never to come true knowing that in the end this all will crumble around your heart that it is never really there and never ever was there would you still build the city? would you still build the city? And in the dream he knew the answer It was more vivid to him than the memory of the city itself Yes, he knew the answer before the dream was finished and he knew the answer as it all crumbled around him he knew, he knew the answer somehow before the question was even asked . . . Yes, he cried, I know the answer And it was the same every time whether the question was asked by the voice from above or by he himself.

6

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 6

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Robert’s Prison As I was walking in the forest one day I came across Robert Frost dressed in tweed and smoking a pipe who said when approaching a fork in the path he preferred to take the road less travelled. And I just looked at him and wondered why he had to walk on a path at all . . . Two fucking choices? That’s all? I’d fall on my knees and kiss the devil’s hairy toes for a gift like that! instead of running like I always do into the twisted forest Stumbling Sweating in the midnight heat of my panic. Am I running from the owl?

7

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 7

12/01/11 5:19 PM

and into the den of wolves? Or do I run eastward hoping to keep the light of the moon? Or does the moon lead me on to danger and I should run through the thicket the wood’s bitter fingers scratching at my face Should I turn back? Shall I dig a hole out? or climb into the trees? Robert? Robert? Where have you gone? But the path less travelled had swallowed him whole and I was left all alone in the thick of it Alone in the thick of a million choices.

8

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 8

12/01/11 5:19 PM

A Good Day One day something happened and the Reaper of Darkness called in sick to work He swung open the medicine cabinet and spilled all his pills to the floor Blue ones to calm him down Green ones to speed him up and Yellow ones that deadened the pain bouncing on the linoleum in a candy-coloured fiesta. “Death! Death to pills!!!” he shouted and laughed before throwing his gowns to the floor and screaming a thousand shades of orange shaking his cheeks until his jowls blubbered like two bowls full of jelly and then he laughed because that was one more bowlful than St. Nick ever had. Suddenly he bolted from the bathroom bursting naked and gangly onto the streets screaming and laughing Showcasing a living garden of newly discovered bowlfuls

9

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 9

12/01/11 5:19 PM

to all his neighbours he raised his hands in the air for the first time free of the scythe! and then he shook them and he shook them and he shook them like he just didn’t care. And he shook and ran until he ran out of town to run through. So he ran through the fields until he came to the foothills and he ran through those too until he hit the forest and pierced its foliage like a cannon ball through the deck of a ship. Caressed by the needles of a million branches his rapid-fire footsteps ignited the wild into life! sending birds fluttering like fireballs out of the canopy and small woodland creatures scurrying from this screaming, rolling, burning, hissing, laughing ball of ruckus. But all the branches in the universe clinging and grasping could not hold this day back

10

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 10

12/01/11 5:19 PM

and Death’s wildly flubbering bowlfuls burst through the forest perimeter. And as he tore up the mountain face the peaks and valleys humbled before his enthusiasm Death relished the geometrical curiosities of rocks passing rapidly beneath his feet and pondered how that was the nice thing about rock — you couldn’t really kill it. Not really. And it wasn’t too long before earth ran out of earth to offer the peak came and went and Death launched himself off the edge of mortal concern and into space legs still running, arms still pumping until he hit the apex of his momentum . . . . . . . . . before twisting contorting and burning back down through the atmosphere where he performed a double-backed twister 8 dive with two loop-de-loops and landed a splashless entry

11

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 11

12/01/11 5:19 PM

into the ocean’s saran-wrap stillness surprising even himself as he had never taken diving lessons in all his life in all of life itself. Layered in a thousand blankets of silence he waited until even oxygen had left him before he began pushing his way to the surface pushing, pushing, pushing until he finally parted the seas with his bony fingers, making a little hole just wide enough for himself for himself and the sunlight to burst through. Blinking into the sun the reaper of darkness lay floating on his back knowing that his pale skin must be burning but caring little for all the small deaths of daily living. Death just floated there, lazily sandwiched between two hues of blue and

12

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 12

12/01/11 5:19 PM

wondered why . . . more days couldn’t be like this?

13

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 13

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The Big Shot Down on the shores of Manila Bay I am melted into the pavement with palm trees and pebbles by the burning glob of lava settling down on the horizon Slowly, sinking into the ocean like an old man into a hot bath Furious and Hissing at the close of the day it boils the ocean in defiance lashing out at the innocent clouds setting their frilly edges aflame screaming until its face glows red No! No! No!

Picture me three months earlier a white face amidst chocolate skins in the marbled halls of De La Salle University Picture me in Photography class — an eager student on an ambitious exchange — leaning forward from my desk . . . so that the forehead is closer to the knowledge

14

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 14

12/01/11 5:19 PM

My photography teacher says that a good photographer knows How to Capture God. Sure . . . Framing Focus Aperture Shutter Speed . . . all that matters but a good photographer knows God when he sees him. Squinting into the smoky, smoggy hot and humid poor and putrid cracked and crowded streets of Malate through the iron-grilled classroom window he says I can teach you Framing Focus Aperture Shutter Speed

15

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 15

12/01/11 5:19 PM

. . . but God is harder to pin onto the chalkboard.

Tired of the point-and-shoot life I want to bag me some real pictures to capture deities in a black box and distill the essence of life from the rough ore of traffic jams and stock markets Like panning for gold I filter through celluloid opportunities for only the best micro moments floating between the vast banal void of everyday living: An unnatural close-up of a bumblebee; A sky curdling grey like sour milk; the beautiful orange and brown death of Autumn and while every Autumn is more or less the same every Death is unique and uniquely beautiful and then gone, like a wafer on the tongue, unless you’ve got a quick finger on the shutter trigger so I never leave my apartment

16

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 16

12/01/11 5:19 PM

without my elephant gun strapped about my neck lest I miss my big shot Bang! Bang! Bang! In three months I have ensnared an impressive collection: geckos frozen on the ceiling streets knee-high in water post-typhoon Christmas lights adorning a milky marble-skinned Virgin Mary blinking in 35-degree heat. Now I am no mere amateur hunter but a seasoned woodsman on Safari pursuing my right of passage sneaking into a four-star hotel for the perfect angle on a less than perfect budget today I am tracking nothing less than the lore and legend of the celluloid jungle. Down on the shores of Manila Bay crouching under shady awnings ducking behind palm fronds I plan to pin that burning tiger between my crosshairs.

17

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 17

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Nothing burns more beautifully than pollution and it spreads across the bay like neon paint throbbing orange and yellow in the streams of sunlight. Awestruck before this struggle between dominance and perspective played out on international waters I wait . . . and watch . . . as the Sun eases its way down through the burning savanna until . . . until . . . the sea is convincingly molten and this primordial soup screams and churns like something that could believably spur life into being with anger and fury Careful not to startle the scene I slowly raise my camera Framing Focus Aperture Shutter Speed

18

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 18

12/01/11 5:19 PM

tremble upon the edges of a half pressed shutter release Waiting . . . waiting . . . waiting . . .

The Sun shifts into frame unawares burning, boiling into my black box My fingers grow hot and sticky on the black leather the light meter flutters in erection as everything slowly slips into perfect position waiting . . . waiting . . . and then it all begins to slip through my crosshairs pica by pica

19

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 19

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The hot breath of the wind blows in my face my vision ripples and my head swoons in the heat as before me unfolds a moment crafted over a billion years through an Incalculable Unfathomable Unrepeatable series of intertwining events building up smashing down overlapping twisting interconnecting in innumerable ways from the very conception of the universe . . . The world swirls in light and in my mind’s eye I see a darkroom filled with images of the world outside like wild animals trapped in a zoo

20

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 20

12/01/11 5:19 PM

I see a life of low-quality copies rewindable, replayable but altogether unlived

Down on the shores of Manila Bay I strip the camera from off my neck and hurl my shutterbox with all my might towards the molten waves lapping at the sand in chase of glass The sea in its toxic churning and burning accepts it with a greedy gulp amongst the other flotsam and junksam decorating its lips burping up Styrofoam bits and plastic bags They go. All the celluloid of students sitting under trees . . . Photographs of children swimming, laughing, playing in open sewers on a crowded street . . . Shots of cats slumbering through afternoon heat on corrugated rooftops . . .

21

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 21

12/01/11 5:19 PM

an entire exchange of collecting and documenting burn with delight as the Sun ignites the sky in flaming orange The last protests from my sinking camera a few photographic ripples in the water fade away as the sun disappears behind the edge of the world as the sky cools to charred ash the day submerged, extinguished for now for now . . . My photography teacher says that a good photographer knows How to Capture God. Sure . . . Framing Focus Aperture Shutter Speed . . . all that matters but a good photographer knows God when he sees him.

22

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 22

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Zeus and the Giant Iced Tea Zeus lay down on a cloud at the end of the universe sipping an iced tea and daydreaming of dandelion fluff It wasn’t a day for lightning bolts Family feuds could resume tomorrow And if it weren’t impossible within the confines of the Greek narrative he would have pitched himself over the side of the universe for a swim in the greyish blue soup of the Milky Way Zeus felt sorry for all those other gods called on by their believers to be Infallible! Reasonable! to provide Guidance! Truth! Answers! The truth was some ridiculous being

23

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 23

12/01/11 5:19 PM

gave you a penis to fuck with and a brain to toy with and a mouth to eat and drink with (and you could fuck with that too he supposed if you put your brain to it) Sundays came But not always on Sunday Some people aged and died Some people didn’t . . . Who made Zeus? The Titans! But who made the Titans? And what did that matter? It was ancient history To be forgotten It’s why people died after all. Zeus stared down at the patchwork quilt of farms below and then leaned back and took another sip of iced tea

24

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 24

12/01/11 5:19 PM

On the Trail of Ibn Battuta On Sunday Morning like the great Muslim explorer I visited the seven food courts of Ibn Battuta. And in each court I prayed at a temple to Starbucks before riding a caravan of 31 flavours to the furthest fabled boutiques of other worlds and there I Whirled with the Dervish of Discounts sat Smoking with the Sultan of Savings plying the trade routes of ancient times in air-conditioned miniature where there peddled more merchants than customers. Nestled between a handful of exhibits extolling Ibn’s thirty-year love affair across the Muslim world I met the Indian Cinnabon maker the Filipina cellphone saleswoman the Iranian tie-peddler while I sucked with Battuta’s passion on a banana mint smoothie All before lunch

25

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 25

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Yes, I saw a great many things on my journey. I saw it all on Sunday Morning at the Ibn Battuta Mall.

26

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 26

12/01/11 5:19 PM

THE THREE AMIGOS

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 27

12/01/11 5:19 PM

El Mexicano He was a mad Mexican with Gatling guns for fists And each fist shot a bottle of hyper-agitated Corona into the many faces of evil Yes. With his guitar he descended upon this troubled town and soothed the hearts of angry men Shaded all the young girls from the heat of the sun with his forty-foot wide sombrero And what you may ask did he keep under his sombrero? Why . . . secrets, of course! Some say in there he kept a giant bottle of tequila so pure it would give the devil himself heartburn Others say he kept the photo of his one true love for whom he endlessly scours the four deserts . . . I prefer to think it’s where he puts all

28

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 28

12/01/11 5:19 PM

the dumb questions people ask about what he keeps under his sombrero Si. He was a mad Mexican with Gatling guns for fists And each fist shot a bottle of hyper-agitated Corona into the many faces of evil He was a mad Mexican with a heart the size of a gourd And if you keep your eyes on the horizon If you keep the fluttering butterflies of hope high in your chest someday you’ll see his silhouette rising with the sun over that hill in the distance coming to a troubled town near you Don’t be depressed sad mad or distressed El Mexicano is coming. El Mexicano is coming. El Mexicano is here.

29

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 29

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The Two Xs Dos Equis The two exxes The dirtiest man South of Al Hambra And North of it too He was born in the desert dust. No woman’s son He was foreign to the ways of women No man’s son He was lost amongst his brothers They called him Dos Equis The two exxes Nobody ever saw his eyes under the wide brim of his black black hat His skin was cold to the touch beneath his black vest and jeans and snake black boots Dos Equis The two exxes He was given a life without direction without answers When he signed his name he signed an X.

30

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 30

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Twice. He was given a life without direction without answers He was only given Two Exxes.

31

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 31

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The Muscle Legend had it that he was born with only one muscle his gut. His head His arms they merely sprouted from it like tendrils whose sole purpose was to move the muscle around to toss it against ropes and fling it off ring posts to wave, taunt, and crassly gesticulate at the palpitating audience until popcorn spilled from lips and into the aisles until crime retreated from the streets for a TV break until every grandmother in Mexico was as close to their beloved Niño Terrible their el Dimonio Dorado the Musculo Antipatico as their failing eyesight would allow them. He was el Dimonio Dorado the Golden Demon and no one could best his solid mass

32

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 32

12/01/11 5:19 PM

as round and resilient as Mayan rubber unmovable ungraspable it rebounded off of everything put in its path and the only weakness Niño Terrible offered up to his sweaty, masked adversaries was the opportunity for a grab at the hair which grew more plentifully on his chest and back than on his head The Muscle was fed on only the finest liquid nutrients Mestizo cerveza had to offer Cooked to a golden brown by the sun greased to glistening perfection by the finest oil from the fattest coconuts el Musculo Antipatico was well taken care of and from behind the golden mask came a voice of undying self-assurance the voice of a champion and the voice of one who knew it He was the reigning wrestling champ from the Summer of 1966

33

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 33

12/01/11 5:19 PM

to the Fall of 1969 and the secret darling of every grandmother in Mexico who cherished him as if her own grandson too old to care for his faults and drinking themselves silly as if amorous teens on everything he had to offer good or bad. For it was as hard to tell if he was bad or good as it was to keep count of all his nicknames but in the ring that didn’t matter and what else did grandmothers secretly have to wish for but the lingering lusty feelings his oiled up frame flying about the ring conjured up in near dry wells as he grappled with the all-time greats: The King of Saints Mr. Whiskers Wred Fright Eduardo Thomas del Honduras

34

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 34

12/01/11 5:19 PM

On Sundays after broadcasts all of Mexico was said to eat the best meals in all the world thanks to grandma None of them even remotely aware as they smacked lips and licked chops and recapped just-finished matches with open-mouthed foodfuls that grandma hadn’t made those meals for them and she hadn’t made them for Mexico either He’d never know it and that was ok but on Sundays the entire country supped like kings on a thousand meals made just for The Muscle All of Mexico was in love with him as if he were a giant metaphor for something else and nobody was sure what that was and nobody cared but they were sure that it was something good and that was good enough. He was the president of Mexico He was the saint

35

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 35

12/01/11 5:19 PM

the father, the sun, the holy ghost and Judas of Iscariot and the devil Mexico and tequila and lemons and tortillas and everything everything everything! on Sundays . . . until the things that made him strong ate away at him the beers that fed the muscle weighed him down the screaming fans made him deaf and the meaningless sexual conquests stole his charm . . . In just three short years his fame became so big that even The Muscle himself could not lift it and even grandmothers grew tired of giving their best for someone who never showed up to even burp or smack their fingers in appreciation when there was nothing left but bones on the dinner table They weren’t going to live forever and they didn’t want to spend what little time was left with just one man when there were so many to pick from on TV these days

36

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 36

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Underneath the mask behind the muscle and oil and hair the glamour and bravado and acrobatic flights he was just another slob who drank too much like most of us and beat his wife when he was angry at things that couldn’t be touched let alone hit who let his dreams run through his fingers like sand until all that was left was a heap of unsorted promises that would never ever draw a crowd. Once he had been the champion of all of Mexico the nation united under him Once the streets had emptied and concrete walls had bulged until all that could be heard from coast to coast was the tinny sound of televised cheers leaking out into the streets.

37

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 37

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Like everything he was now nothing but for a brief moment on Sundays from the Summer of 1966 to the Fall of 1969 every grandmother in Mexico had been in love with him.

38

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 38

12/01/11 5:19 PM

In the vault of the keeper of dreams It’s run by this old fart The only guy who didn’t have dreams of his own. An infinite library covered in twice as many cobwebs as shelves. It’s cold and dark in that goddamned place and one of the interesting things is how much repeat there is categorized under the dreamy decimal system: miles and miles of dreams about “opening a business” “taking a trip” “asking that girl out” They say there is another floor where they keep the dreams that came to fruition but I’ve never seen it. Is it as stuffy? Or does the second floor full of planters open up on the sky streaming sunbeams onto the thousands of patrons below wrapped in Greek robes sunbathing and reading

39

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 39

12/01/11 5:19 PM

between the marbled columns unaware of the vault of dreams rotting below, the black morass of nothingness on which everything floats.

40

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 40

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The Secret It was impossible to tell which of the innumerable charges drummed up on his sheet of grievances were real and which had been trumped up by a government overzealous in its desire for apprehension It was impossible to tell how many tales of his dastardly capers whispered in muddy alleys shared over late-night drinks in lightly lit peasant houses were more than just tall tales for ordinary lives but between the bureaucrats who sought justice in unjust ways and the everyday paupers seeking righteousness at the spilling of someone else’s blood on the King’s blade there was little doubt of his guilt whatever that might be exactly We were almost dead ourselves when we found the old man

41

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 41

12/01/11 5:19 PM

tucked in along the mountain peaks of Pumara Kangur. In fact between the paper-thin air we strained with every muscle to get into our lungs and the blinding white light flaring up from the endless waves of snow I toyed with the idea that we existed no more that we had passed beyond some otherworldly gate to a place where everything was erased direction, space, time, and even feeling were lost until memory of the real world too slowly blanched away . . . Hong, ahead clung harder to this old world marching forward as if pure persistence could make up for lack of direction How to catch a man who’d spent his entire life on the run? The government seemed determined to prove over and over that it didn’t know how. It was the sun chasing the moon

42

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 42

12/01/11 5:19 PM

And now we were to die Just another footnote of failure in this endless adventure I was easing comfortably into acceptance of this and even Hong’s stubbornness was beginning to fade when the Sherpas appeared out of nowhere whisking our lives from the brink of neverness as they had doubtlessly been doing for centuries plucking foolish mainlanders from the perils of their own arrogance Surely it was a benevolent God who created these gentle mountain men Hong forcefully explained to them that we had been sent by the government and they were obligated under the King’s law to put us up and provide shelter Though they clearly didn’t speak Hong’s language they merely smiled, nodded and put us up anyway in a mountain cave buried somewhere in the endless white.

43

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 43

12/01/11 5:19 PM

I was with the old man as he remained one step ahead of us to the very end rail thin on that straw bed as peaceful and certain as the snow that surrounded the temple along the mountain slopes The irony of them happily delivering us to the old outlaw was completely lost on the Sherpas No wonder they had looked on so eagerly as we supped on the tea and crudely made porridge they had prepared for us restoring strength that had been sapped over days of wandering blind No wonder they had seemed so happy to find us in the snow as if in answer to one of the many prayers spinning around their prayer wheels They must have thought we were looking for him Which we were. They must have thought we could help him Which we couldn’t. and wouldn’t. We barely had a moment to empty our bowls before they urged us up and towards the back of the temple

44

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 44

12/01/11 5:19 PM

into a large room with a bed in the middle and an old frail figure whose breath was so short it barely lifted the blankets draped over top of him Good intelligence had led the government to his presence in the mountains of this region. But had good intelligence kept them at it for so many years? How long had he been hiding out here with the Sherpas? Days? Decades? This old man unaware of our presence as we stood over him . . . The prize seemed so ridiculous The government’s zeal to catch him . . . pointless. It was a chase that had been lost long ago. But Hong didn’t even balk and the next morning after we had rested he quickly got to haranguing the poor Sherpas

45

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 45

12/01/11 5:19 PM

for a way out demanding supplies to make the way Reminded them, in fact — these poor outcasts who’d never asked a single thing of the Heads of State who claimed ownership over all lands — that their duty was to the nation, to provide us with the materials to enable our removal of this individual who had likely lived peacefully amongst them for years Hong reminded them that they were as good as criminals themselves if they didn’t do their utmost to help us bring the old man to justice My job was to guard the old fool lest he escape.

For two days this went on me sitting next to the motionless man and Hong’s forceful demanding and questioning the only noise to break up the endless hiss of wind and snow blowing outside The Sherpas engaged in perpetual head bobbing nodding yes to all of Hong’s requirements

46

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 46

12/01/11 5:19 PM

more out of a desire to help than out of any understanding sure-footedly finding their way through the waves of Hong’s threats like they guided the treacherous mountain passes. Hong’s aggression washed off them like water upon a duck. As time passed they seemed more and more confused as to why we were here or what we wanted However, I think that pretending to be too simple to understand our strange outsider’s ways was all part of their hospitality a piece of the flexible stuff that made them able to live in these inhospitable climates So they gathered supplies from their scant resources and catered to Hong’s demands in the outer room while I guarded the skin stretched over bones in the bed all of us well aware that in his state there was no way we could get the man out alive

47

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 47

12/01/11 5:19 PM

and so were helpless to do anything but wait and watch him perform his final escape Always one step ahead of the law he was even beating the courts to his death sentence. These days were long and vague and Hong couldn’t stand it He fulfilled his need for progress by harassing the Sherpas as if everything was moving forward as if the snow would clear any moment now as the old man just took shallower and shallower breaths sinking into his bed eyelids fluttering open suddenly in the peaceful room, as if waking from a dream searching the walls lazily until those tired old pupils still vibrant settled on me . . . and then the man would smile faintly as if assured by my continued presence before fading out again I tormented myself with the question of whether

48

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 48

12/01/11 5:19 PM

I should be the one here at this man’s deathbed. Did he believe me to be someone else? A family member? A friend? Was he even aware that we’d come to arrest him? To take him to men who would make him a corpse and then make his corpse a public spectacle? Surely there was someone more appropriate to be counting his final breaths But I needed to give the old man his due. He’d been at this game had my superiors on his trail long before I came along He must have known. And he approached this like I imagined he approached everything else in his life: with total confidence and honesty. Honesty in his thievery Honesty in his dishonesty Confident of a satisfying conclusion and leisurely denouement

49

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 49

12/01/11 5:19 PM

On the third day the old man started as if from a nightmare and his hand went instinctually to mine at the edge of the bed He was too weak to open his eyes then only turning his head as if he could see through the greenish skin that hung over those now bulging eyeballs searching for items and people about the room that no longer existed living in the images flickering on the back of his imagination I was unsure what to do My heart softened at the sheer fragility of the hand in mine but feared reprisal from Hong wearing his frustration out on the Sherpas down the hall as they prepared gruel for our dinner yet I did not pull my hand away Later, when Hong came in . . . I’m not sure if he saw or not but he said nothing staring at the figure there sinking sinking into the sheets Hong grimaced and left

50

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 50

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Late that night it was I who started awake to the sound of a voice narrating to me The old man, looking at me from behind closed eyes spoke in a struggled whisper as if each successive word were a heavier and heavier burden “Many a man wakes to strive for stability hoping to hold onto his one . . . . . . . . . . . . little stake of land just long enough to perish upon it He dreams at night of fleeing . . . . . . . . . . . . from the empty calmness of it to the darkness and its dangers beyond. Screaming at his owns hands that tremble from the unending desire to climb the walls

51

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 51

12/01/11 5:19 PM

that surround him on all sides . . .” And then he went silent for so long I feared he had gone to sleep And yet I waited for more. Hours later I was woken again. As if there were no gap in between he continued: “and another man shakes and trembles in his cell until the phantoms in his mind overtake the fears in his heart and he scales the walls that surround most men runs blind into the night amongst the wolves. The envy of his rooted brothers he has no home yet no ties and is in those woods alone dreaming of four walls a home fighting and stealing for something he does not know how to grasp . . .”

52

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 52

12/01/11 5:19 PM

By the time he came to these last words I was mere inches from his mouth as he drained the well of his strength to the very last drop just to expel puffs of air with barely enough gust to part his lips forcing the words out in breaks of syllables. I waited over him like this until my neck hurt but he was still again. Pitying the man I wrapped both my hands around his and waited hoping for this final escape to be free of dogs nipping at his heels and leaping through death’s portal to haunt him in a never-ending chase in the afterlife.

As dawn cracked over the horizon myself unable to sleep I noticed that the old man was gently squeezing my hand in weak, rhythmic patterns. I smiled and watched this wondering if it was the last impulses

53

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 53

12/01/11 5:19 PM

of his brain yearning for contact or merely his blood flow now stronger than the muscles in his boney hand swaying the fingers in its final pulses. And I felt a swell of guilt flow warm into my chest and head as I realized he had been trying for who knew how long now to beckon me closer. I leaned over the bed. His body, besides the faint whispers barely starting through his dry, dry lips looked as if it was completely inert. The frustrated effort just to make these last final effects on the great world around him broke my heart in a way no father, brother, or lover ever could. The sour smell of a tongue that hadn’t tasted food in days clutched weakly at my nostrils as I leaned further and further in chase of his meaning. My ear hovered an imperceptible distance above his barely moving lips cracked and dry

54

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 54

12/01/11 5:19 PM

searching out the message: “I have been both those men and . . . I’ll tell you — a secret the secret — life’s secret It . . . It doesn’t matter . . . Doesn’t matter . . .” The man wrestled in another breath and I feared was going to fade out for another long spell but the whispering came now again so faint I was filled with pity just to experience the frailty we can all expect to someday seize us. “It doesn’t matter — what you do with it because

because it all ends . . . just the same.”

And he stopped there whether because he could no longer continue or because he had finally said all he had to say I will never know.

55

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 55

12/01/11 5:19 PM

I held his cool and clammy hand through the night his breath becoming slower and slower like waves on a beach and the tide going out further and further and further My breath, with it, came up short unable to break the pace as if being dragged out to sea with his fading tide and every now and then I found myself suddenly rising to the surface for a gluttonous breath of air Those little lungs so weak and yet still with such power to drag me in. Maybe it was from fatigue or maybe from the thin intake of air but I was surprised to find myself waking with the Sherpa’s entrance to wash the man mid morning Dripping water in his mouth from a wet cloth it seemed to me that they had nursed a man into the grave a thousand times before and, I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment, but late that morning I was suddenly struck by the fact that the ocean had stopped

56

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 56

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Only the sound of the wind blowing snow outside the cavern haunted the room. The man had grown still and waxy. He had made his final escape.

Hong shifted his weight anxiously from foot to foot in the outer room while the Sherpas made preparations to bury as with everything they did in graceful, unrushed movements Hong, at a loss but to allow this fugitive his final getaway, allowed the burying but warned the Sherpas with much authority that he was under decree of the government to apprehend this man and agents of the State would return in the summer to claim the body, intern him were he belonged in the shame of a criminal burial ground. As with everything they smiled and nodded and offered us lunch. The weather cleared two days later

57

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 57

12/01/11 5:19 PM

We were given food and directions and after a quiet lunch I packed up my belongings taking one last look at the now empty bed as we exited the temple into the blinding snow. The Sherpas watched us from the temple entrance until distance stole them away from my backwards glances and white swallowed everything once again. Close at Hong’s heels I made my way down through the snowy peaks and rocky valleys down towards the cities the courts and the governmental palace far below carrying the old man’s heavy secret home.

58

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 58

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Ask the ’stache Why did he grow the moustache? He was sixteen and less than blessed in the social skills department. (You could tell just by looking at him.)

He was sixteen and much more awkward than the decent row of hairs he’d gathered and arranged on his upper lip. He bagged groceries at the local Safeway The one that seemed to have an ambulance perpetually parked outside And for some reason he grew this plain straight black-as-tar moustache there. Why did he grow the moustache? I always wondered buying milk, bread, fruit. Why did he grow the moustache?

59

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 59

12/01/11 5:19 PM

But these are questions the world will never address. If the moustache was providing answers it wasn’t speaking to me. It merely lay on the lips of its owner hiding well its small secrets

60

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 60

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The Method (Wherefore art thou convenience?)

It was to be his greatest role: playing the part of a greasy store clerk perpetually standing behind a counter dressed in an oversized uniform. He believed that every moment in life should be approached as if a greater part in Shakespeare’s play. So what if they hadn’t been able to stop the property owner from turning the theatre into a drugstore? Life was but a stage! So in the morning he rose and spent an hour in make-up prepared his material on the bus ride to his kitty-corner playhouse and every day he would perform Living Art Rolling and Changing those hot dogs Validating the luck of lottery tickets Serving the unmet pinball and frozen liquid sugar needs of pimply-faced teenagers until the play took a twist! Oh convenience! he recited, Hast ever the world been kist by more delightful a flowr!? 61

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 61

12/01/11 5:19 PM

In the Dojo In the dojo there was water up to the waist. The wooden dummy who took beatings for fifteen years floated on his back and the kicking bag had finally given up dangling Classes would be out for the summer and eventually the insurance wouldn’t cover anything, the cleaning costs alone taking Sensei Gnudson, who had developed an unbeatable arsenal of organic weaponry, who had forged a muscle memory dating back to the stone age, who had mastered the masters in Japan, Korea, China, and Brazil, down for the count.

62

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 62

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Who’s going to fulfill my unreasonable expectations? He ordered a can of hot coffee from the machine. Even paid for it. And the tell-tale thump told him the moment of final anticipation had arrived at last. But when he took a sip it was just a friggin’ can of lukewarm coffee from a machine! “Where’s my new car?” he felt like screaming into the tab-shaped portal “My boundless and high-quality sex? Who’s going to tear up all the parking lots and put in beaches? Who’s going to hold me at night when I’m sobbing in bed: Lonely, Disillusioned, Guideless, Pathetic? Who’s going to bring me my jetpacks? My space colonies and sea monkeys? Who? This coffee? Bitter with the taste of a thousand unfulfilled promises?

63

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 63

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Who? Who? Who? Who’s going to fulfill my unreasonable expectations?!”

64

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 64

12/01/11 5:19 PM

THE SULTAN POEMS

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 65

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The Sultan’s Heart Don’t think you’re getting off that easy little miss disappearing trick You play your first attempt as the wisened thief well but are still nothing less than a petty criminal used to stuffing shampoo bottles up under her skirt In way over her head and running too fast to know it yet. This is the Sultan’s heart and you can’t just run your fingertips over the aorta admire its shine in the light then tuck it under your armpit and vanish out the door like it was nothing. Run little thief The Sultan won’t chase you In fact the Sultan doesn’t even want his own heart back He’s found one better he’d like in return.

66

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 66

12/01/11 5:19 PM

You can hide in any of the city’s million parapets the Sultan only enjoys searching for you his minions will knock on your every door on every house in every street in every kingdom his poetry will ring out over the burning sky as far as the eye can see can see settling in the ears of friends, family, enemies, lovers and, yes, your ears too little thief his fantasies will slip into your dreams run a thousand tongues along every curve of your thoughts and tickle you awake. You’ve stolen the Sultan’s heart and now you know that he cannot be satisfied until he has been satisfied with yours in return

67

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 67

12/01/11 5:19 PM

In the Petticoat’s Palace In her secret cave blanketed deep in a desert mountain she lies, lies, lies on a million-dollar rug by the stream that runs through her candlelit cavern tickling away not only the heat of midday that sets down in the desert like a fat man after a large lunch but sweeping back too the demons that would fight a deeper night’s sleep In hiding from his royal advances the thief in her petticoat sits with the Sultan’s ruby-rouge heart in her hands delicately exploring its edges as she listens for his army of warriors now pulled from the battlefield on all fronts in quest of the Sultan’s new obsession and at night sometimes she can hear the call of his poetry in its long desperate journey over the desert knowing every scorpion snake, rat, and beetle along the way must hear it too

68

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 68

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Admiring her wall of hearts and other collected prizes things she’s stolen from here and from there mundane items lifted from the most exotic locals keepsakes pinched from the darkest dankest lairs never to be feasted upon by other eyes satisfaction does not sleep with her tonight She has secreted too even the most useless of things for herself The shirts off of men’s backs Men from the sheets of other women’s beds Food from the verge of a gourmand’s lips collected here a thousand things useless to her but as souvenirs of the act itself As a girl she never dreamed of wearing a thief’s cloak but the lust for taking could not be satisfied by denying it And oddly she now realizes as the stream dallies with her midnight thoughts neither can it be fulfilled by fulfilling it

69

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 69

12/01/11 5:19 PM

for she keeps stealing and stealing as if looking for an answer to a question asked in the crib but all the answers she finds and takes are temporary and disappear like water on the desert’s horizon And the most prized of her possessions that has kept her trapped here unable to indulge in new thirsts for months that has most strangely satisfied her above all her mementos leaves a curious aching inside . . . She has stolen it and even though she rolls it in her hands every night feeling its weight, knowing its heft exploring its smooth marble surface with her fingertips she is still not in complete possession of it! The Sultan’s heart . . . she did not want but just took, instinctually like all the souvenirs on her wall of hearts . . . But unlike all the others she holds onto it unsure of why it shines so brightly

70

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 70

12/01/11 5:19 PM

even after its having been stolen as if it had never been stolen at all! The thief in her petticoat does not understand why she steals any more than she understands why a cocksure and powerful Sultan would lust so over a petty thief who steals in search of nothing But the question burns endlessly in her cave Even the stream cannot tickle it away and her usual approach to quell the burning heat does not work because you cannot steal a question

71

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 71

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The Sultan’s Epiphany The Sultan steps back aghast at the moment of truth as it falls to the floor from under your thief’s petticoat shattering into a million golden nothings After hunting you all these months all these miles over all those cobblestone roadways thirsting in all those sandy deserts After all these unmarked doors and open-ended poems After all the fretful, sleepless nights haunted by infinite imaginings of you petty thief he never once conjured up this inevitable certainty . . . The shroud is pulled aside to reveal the terrible secret of the one who has stolen his love. You petty little thief! He cries in anger and in lust throwing his scimitar to the ground

72

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 72

12/01/11 5:19 PM

with a hollow clatter that fails to fill the room Suddenly the heat of eight months of impassioned searching, yearning, and dreaming is washed away in a tidal wave of pity You petty little thief! You steal hearts because you have none of your own!

73

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 73

12/01/11 5:19 PM

In Petticoat’s Kingdom Oh . . . how the Sultan’s Kingdom has crumbled. The city and all its surrounds now a foregone desert where once a lively spring of laughter and music of swirling colours and gestures danced in the marketplace flourished in this Sahara blanketed at night in the sounds of the Sultan’s voice sweeping over the sleepy rooftops in playful chase and waking the city to each dawning day like a lover’s kiss. Now all have tumbled The thief, the Sultan, the city and all its surrounds from her intoxicating cloak and into the darkness where the moon resides as slumbering King awake but inactive The desert sucks at the legs of this dream

74

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 74

12/01/11 5:19 PM

and the decay of history’s amnesia blows in hot and dry forgetting this land before its time before the tale is truly over Oh . . . how the Sultan has crumbled he who passes his days as if barely awake and roams the palace halls by night as if amongst all his possessions he has lost sleep His poetry that flowed like the richest of purple and red tapestries over the city’s skyscape has grown limp and fallen about the town like a cloak too heavy to lift. The wells run dry the castle walls become sand and the luster of everything has worn off Even the historians and storytellers keep themselves locked inside There is nothing left to tell!

75

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 75

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The city The kingdom The Sultan have become a performance where all the lines are delivered but the blood does not flow in the actors’ veins. All because of that little petticoat thief! No story in the kingdom’s storied history has ever recorded such a scoundrel! How infinite her petticoat that it could have stolen the universe inside and yet even this limitless container could never hold the vastness of her selfishness that has now swept out and descended upon this land as far as the eye can see can see like a plague All because of that petticoated little thief! How dare she! How dare she! How dare she let herself be caught!

76

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 76

12/01/11 5:19 PM

By Day It does not yield anything. As it once did Or did it ever? I can’t recall . . . Was it merely always motionless and flat? a bauble? a trinket? like all her other prized possessions sitting high up on that shelf deep in her watery cave a pitiful collection of wishes unfulfilled through fulfillment and this heart the epicentre in her sad little tale of petty heists Yet here it is just as sad . . . even more so on my perch than on hers Had I only elevated the importance of the Sultan’s heart in its absence? Did it shine ever so much greater in lust than in ownership? By day the Sultan sits in his empty throne room where court was once held

77

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 77

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Now in its white marbled magnificence nothing happens air grows stale and even the sound of nothing echoes echoes The throne has been turned from the hall to face the wall and the glistening red heart now returned to its white satin pillow where it sat for years half forgotten. Oh how I had inflated her Glamorized the dexterity of her thieving fingers as if by their touch they brought the sun and moon smashing together overhead It did not ever beat so in my grasp and yet thrived in hers Did she blow life into a once stale stone in audacious lust? Or did she merely wring its passion like a rag before leaving us both hollow?

78

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 78

12/01/11 5:19 PM

By day By day he sits and stares at it for hours as if forgetting the kingdom and everything in it. The Sultan owns everything as far as the eye can see can see and yet his eye can only look upon the glistening heart now returned to its white satin pillow where it had sat for years forgotten.

79

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 79

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Beneath She has disappeared beneath its size Imagine! A cloak so big it could steal the Sultan’s heart and everything as far as the eye can see can see inside it but when empty of all its ill-gotten possessions she disappears stolen herself in its all consuming greed. Sometimes it’s difficult to tell if she is more than just a lump of clothes and often I wonder if she has a palace hidden in there somewhere to which she has escaped But a quick poke reveals she has nothing beneath but her inescapable self How disappointing she was in the end after all those many months of searching . . . the furor with which the Sultan’s heart beat in search of the Sultan’s heart the lust set upon the kingdom and the city like a drunkenness

80

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 80

12/01/11 5:19 PM

and in the end she said nothing! Not a word! Not an explanation! She just let herself be taken into this foul place her gaze so lifeless even the firestorm of the Sultan’s fury failed to find its reflection as they led her away. How disappointing she was in the end after months of poetry lifting her up on a pillar to the sun to laze amongst the Gods in infamy chase after narrow escape after chase! What a shock to realize she was anything but a God! A child could have walked her here and set her in this cage shackled her to this floor where we guard the door and lock the key in a drawer and then lock that key in another . . . . . . but to what end?

81

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 81

12/01/11 5:19 PM

It’s as if the chase across the great desert and all the kingdom’s nooks and crannies has drained her of desire. This is not the heart the Sultan set out for Somewhere along the way it evaporated in the heat or perhaps it was never there at all but now she just sits there in the corner deep beneath her petticoat deep beneath the palace and says nothing as if even speech had been returned to its rightful owner. Yet still the Sultan cannot pull himself away. He is caught up in a chase that has ended! Like a man who rereads a book over and over he refuses to believe the last page has been turned! And upon every moon’s revisiting he comes down to the dungeon to see her

82

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 82

12/01/11 5:19 PM

as if searching for something . . . But she has nothing least of all insight to offer Despite all her thievery she has but a universe of emptiness beneath that cloak and so the cloak just lies there crumpled, black, and empty while he stares angrily neither say anything before the Sultan turns on his heels and storms back up to the palace. How disappointing she was in the end.

83

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 83

12/01/11 5:19 PM

In Search of Another Ending Although the nights fall and fall and fall in an endless acrobatic tumble of moon over sun they fail to end for the Sultan And though the moon sets for the sun to rise it does not sleep like the Sultan who spends his nights following the intricate labyrinth of golden Herati patterns painted upon the ceiling unable to find his escape . . . Instead of sleep the Sultan seeks out his papers restlessly resting in his parapet high above the palace’s many domes, arches, and ramparts and breaks pens on the table when the words become too angry and the search for resolution too forced Though the ink bleeds freely over his hands, the desk down his kaftan and onto the floor his poetry does not flow at all.

84

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 84

12/01/11 5:19 PM

And so alone in his tower high above as the city turns in to sleep and sleep and sleep he takes refuge from expressions of the heart in reviewing the words that once coursed easier than his own blood that once surged across the cityscape soaked the desert and drowned everything in the path of his overflowing obsession. Peering down to the swimming pool below where the garden once was he ruffles through his sheets as if trying to piece together another man’s scattered diary but it is erratic and incomplete Flipping through pages and pages of poetry endlessly repeating the Sultan searches for the ending he had hoped for but never wrote when the passion burned hot in the hottest of hottest places . . . for to write it would have been to end it.

85

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 85

12/01/11 5:19 PM

So there is no ending now for the Sultan peering down to the swimming pool below from his tower high above has lost the words to write his way to it.

86

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 86

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Her Return Late at night — though night does not visit this dungeon — when the guards are asleep I steal the only thing left to steal: A little time for myself The Sultan writes his poetry and broadcasts it across the land freely A meaningless thing that has no value It comes without cost and can be copied without care from mouth to ear from mind to mind It cannot be possessed It can be taken but not held And any fool knows that the sunset’s gold cannot be tendered in any trade shop So I carve my primitive attempts painstakingly in the dungeon’s darkest corner where no one shall ever see them even myself embarrassed by my lack of ability

87

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 87

12/01/11 5:19 PM

searching searching to find the meaning of what can be taken in all this give This poem is for you Sultan and you’ll never take it.

88

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 88

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Where the Garden Used to Be The Sultan built this pool for you before he ever knew if he’d see you again glistening blue like a sapphire far below his panoptical parapet Day and Night he looks over it seeing your naked form quivering beneath the undulating waves relaxing beneath the shade of a palm tree browning in the sun and sound of wind softly rustling over the city as I write poetry in ode to you from my perch high above your smile drifting up in a cool coconut breeze from where you lounge below amongst your books and innermost inner thoughts. This pool drinks only from the sky and shuns the taste of any animal two-legged, four-legged, or more Only you are the key that can part its waters. This pool is for you my dear little petticoat and no one shall ever swim in it Not even the Sultan himself

89

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 89

12/01/11 5:19 PM

And even if you never come and even if you never do The Sultan has built this pool for you

90

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 90

12/01/11 5:19 PM

A Gift for Rats and Spiders The temperature drops and the rats and the spiders scurry for dark corners when the Sultan’s footsteps descend step after uneven stony step into the dungeon. What have you done to it? he shouts as he storms into the dank mouth of this place where even time dies a slow death holding the heart in his hand But still the petticoat lump does not move. The Sultan’s voice goes cold and the dryness of his breath sends the sour moisture of this cave back into the walls A man who has lost his heart goes mad And in my madness you consumed my palace and all my thoughts like a fire licking at the ceiling! Now I have my heart and the thief as well and neither do I want and nothing is left to lust after!!

91

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 91

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Take this!! It is useless now!!! And the Sultan raises the heart high into the air and smashes it down onto the putrid floor its sparkling pieces Large, Small, Infinitesimal, Dust scattering across the darkness their red light dissolving in the shadows before disappearing in the claws of rats and the webs of spiders Cold fills the spaces between the thief and her unfortunate Sultan and all the fading fractions of things once complete but completely broken Time steals back into the dungeon for the briefest of moments to see what the commotion is and there is the most imperceptible movement from the lump of clothes rumpled upon the stony floor

92

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 92

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Her brilliant brown eyes flare from beneath the impenetrable depths of that black black cloak where only darkness erupts like two quasars alighting in a cold starless sky She fixes her eyes on the Sultan as her ruby red lips part to speak . . . and the temperature drops.

93

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 93

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The Sandstorm Beneath the cloak is a sandstorm of emptiness blowing furious and cold hungry for possession and when the many secrets it has stolen are themselves stolen away the storm spills out in a howling orchestra of a million grasping grains to steal and bury everything for it that owns nothing. How could such a tiny creature hold all this inside of her? And when the city has been crushed to dust even my poetry it steals All of it gone now erased in this storm . . . Except for this poem that visits me late at night taunting me with the hope of joy’s returning only to reveal at the very last line that it too has been stolen by the sandstorm.

94

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 94

12/01/11 5:19 PM

What the rat reads in the corner of the dungeon My dearest Sultan You pitiful fool who should know everything about everything of value know nothing of hearts! That they must be stolen to be worth anything We can never truly own our own And even when taken or God forbid given you can never truly own another’s But my dearest Sultan you should know Oh wise and passionate poet that once returned they are worth the least of all

95

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 95

12/01/11 5:19 PM

They Tremble The cooks they tremble in the kitchen nervous wrecks I have seen them. Once the happiest chefs in all the land with no limits on ingredients serving the most discerning and educated palette in all of history’s meals . . . Now they can do no right! The Sultan stares despondently at the wall forgetting to eat and sends everything back The chefs have said it is as if every jar of spice on the rack has lost its bite They add more more and more! until trembling they cry amongst each other that it is too much They can add no more spice . . . but still there is no flavour! The Sultan becomes angry and tells them the finest cooks in his keeping cannot make a meal fit for a criminal and has them take his repast down to the dungeon

96

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 96

12/01/11 5:19 PM

to be spilled on the floor before the petty little petticoated thief! Is it the cooks who have lost their ability to find the meal in the recipe or is it the Sultan himself? The Sultan He has sent away his harem Late on a hot afternoon he stormed through the large oak doors and sent them all out into the city with a sum of money that would make even the wealthiest of moneylenders blush and shut the doors forever Now they tremble in the streets uncertain of their place in this strange, changed Sultan’s land He has thrown away his harem and locked the doors tight The accountants they tremble too I have seem them in the treasury counting and recounting smaller and smaller piles

97

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 97

12/01/11 5:19 PM

of money with more and more space to count it in as he pours the rest of it into his secret room built in the harem’s place. He has hired the finest builders in all the land to construct a palace within a palace so opulent that rumours cannot touch it and accountants can only guess at its price from the invoices that flood the treasury like a tidal wave And even the soldiers stoic in their bunkers tremble from fatigue as the Sultan sends them forth on endless midnight treasure hunts through the castle’s darkest depths prying their torches into the creepiest of the Kingdom’s corners flushing out the rats and the spiders from hiding places only nightmares know of But in search of what? What? And for his finest regimental guards he has pulled them off the front

98

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 98

12/01/11 5:19 PM

and set them on round-the-clock watch of his cherished swimming pool The pool no being must swim in four-legged, two-legged, or more on punishment of the death of the perpetrator — be it man, animal, plant, or insect — and all the guards. The city trembles in the cold and the thief trembles in the dungeon The Sultan trembles in anger And the cooks, the accountants the harem and the soldiers tremble in their skins while the rats and the spiders tremble in the shadows They all tremble I have seen them.

99

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 99

12/01/11 5:19 PM

By Night By night he comes down and stares at her for hours as if forgetting the kingdom and everything in it He who owns everything as far as the eye can see can see and yet can gaze only upon her rumpled form motionless in the dungeon when even the guard at the door slumbers at perfect attention by night every night he comes down like a fool lost in his own wealth He who has nothing by virtue of having everything He who thought he’d play the thief’s game and lost So he comes down here and has the guard unshackle me knowing full well there is nowhere to escape to perhaps knowing though I credit him too much that this cage is merely a room

100

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 100

12/01/11 5:19 PM

in a greater prison that engulfs us all and the key has eluded me everywhere in every nook and cranny of men’s minds Even the Sultan’s heart failed to provide it as it sparkled so in my hands and now he comes down here as if I have broken it when it was empty from the start and only valuable in a dream By night he comes down and stares at her for hours as if forgetting the kingdom and everything in it He who owns everything as far as the eye can see can see and yet can gaze only upon her rumpled form motionless in the dungeon when even the guard at the door slumbers at perfect attention Now it is smashed into a thousand pieces a million questions as it should be but he screams when the answer

101

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 101

12/01/11 5:19 PM

does not spill out. I did a favour for him for only in its absence did he burn like me in lust You have found what you were looking for my prince Yes, it is not what you expected but this is it By night By night he comes and gazes upon me for hours, silently as if I had answers! The childish fool! Would he not think I’d escape to find them if I knew where they were? Why doesn’t he turn to his kingdom and everything in it? “As far as the eye can see can see” There are so many things that are his to gaze upon objects animate and inanimate to speak to Why does his attention fall only on me motionless in the dungeon when even the guard at the door slumbers at perfect attention?

102

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 102

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The Palace’s Story It is said that the Sultan’s palace has a thousand ears and even more eyes and though none of them see or hear everything their mouths bridge the gaps through rumour and innuendo as gossip flows like blood through the most unheard of pipelines Oh Misses Spider have you heard the maids in the laundry room all a-chatter chattering of the gown he’s had the royal tailor stitch? says the rat in a darkened drain far beneath the Sultan’s parapet Sewn from silk so exquisite even the tailor himself could not identify it and so they say if it were washed but once the dress would unravel into a million threads so it hangs on a wall

103

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 103

12/01/11 5:19 PM

with no one to wear it Who is it for? is all they talk about Who is it for? The Sultan’s story is no different from our own full of storytellers and characters who never make an appearance but run behind the walls and dangle from the ceiling watching and listening casually piecing their own storylines together from what measly crumbs our narratives have to offer here and there A dress? cries the spider How delightful! For the Sultan’s guards have been trampling through the dungeon’s darkest corners for weeks carefully plucking our webs from old to archaic in the most inaccessible of places

104

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 104

12/01/11 5:19 PM

And others have seen them boiling the tangled mess in a giant black cauldron to extract the most delicate thread man or spider has ever seen Even the palace itself is a character in this one as it listens to the echo of the Sultan’s footsteps accompanied by the tap tap timpani of the little thief’s down the hall secretly strolling in the sleeping hours The palace weaves together a tale to tell itself from the soft kisses their bare feet make with the cool midnight stone as they wander the secret garden debating the number of taste buds on a tongue the sound of a thousand thoughts the number of heartbeats in a love affair And all the ants are a bustle on the hill outside the guards’ sleeping quarters consorting with the salamanders perched above doorframes

105

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 105

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Why, have you seen the Regimental Soldiers standing watch from moonrise to sunset over the Sultan’s new pool Their gaze is so strict even the rats dare not swim in it and the moon wary to cast its reflection and the salamanders speak of the secret room where the harem’s den once lay An enormous hall bedecked with flowing satin curtains and tapestries from the finest artisans a bath and a bed that could fit forty people overlooked by a giant window that takes in the entire eastern part of the city sealed by giant bars for a reason no rat, ant, lizard, or spider can decipher. It is said that the Sultan’s palace has a thousand ears and if they could be woven together in a string they would tell a fantastic story somewhere between half truths and all lies like all stories do like all stories do

106

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 106

12/01/11 5:19 PM

He Sees Water in the Desert The desert has no water but these are the words that I had heard through it distorted and distant the meaning muddied and drowned in its amaranthine journey from his lips to my ears so many sleepless nights ago Now the lips that utter them are close as he rests in his kaftan against the cold dungeon wall But when I close my eyes I have escaped to my dear desert cave and hear his voice again calling out after me over countless desert dunes These words are not what I imagined in even a thousand nights of ponderous solitude The Sultan’s messages are much more lyrical their metaphors and similes carve my figure in intricate

107

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 107

12/01/11 5:19 PM

soliloquies, rhyme, metre craft together a vision of me out from the raw ore of lust love, desire, and determination The cadence of his voice flows over my hips cheeks legs and hair chisels my form in the mind from the mind beautiful and alluring until even I myself am drawn to this vision as to a sculpture in a museum yet unsure if the sculptor’s hand is true to the inspiration or if he conjures up a mirage liars like us like to believe And when he is satisfied with the result he turns his craft on himself He builds a palace and a pool to place us in Then an entire universe of longing but still not large enough

108

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 108

12/01/11 5:19 PM

to hold all his poetry all his descriptions of our shared history despite the fact that we never shared any of it until I am happily but strangely lost in this familiar but alternate world constructed of memories that never happened Try as I might night after night in my cave to assemble this puzzle of drowned words into the military dictates and threats I had expected them to be I never once imagined this was the message he had for me Did I ever truly have his heart? Or was I the thief pursued unjustly for stealing the meaningless decoy? These words once traveled further than caravans for every ear to hear Now they are just for his captive audience at first in the dungeons at night and then later as we roam the halls when no one rises

109

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 109

12/01/11 5:19 PM

then finally in his parapet high atop the world . . . now wrapped up and nestled between tea and carpets and odes and odes so beautifully fashioned for me and my beauty or as he has imagined it And as this love-struck Sultan narrates our story in that dimly lit room I keep my eye alert for a stray sheet or two I could slip under my petticoat They are written for me but they are not for me and for the first time I long to stuff the ream beneath my coat to take them from everyone else far into the desert to read and sleep upon a pile of them as his voice calls out in anguish for me through the miles and miles of water but I stay my hand and instead

110

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 110

12/01/11 5:19 PM

lick my lips at the wondering of what new words he is writing. He hints that there may be more Where once there was an unlimited supply his pen ran dry as a desert well But lately drips of drops have been spotted gathering on desire’s round and rusty spout . . . But the Sultan loves all things in the right time and the right place and when the reservoir of our past has been drained there will be room for new words to share of our present But what fun is the right thing in the right time? I am no fool Sultan You are the fool who fools his self You live for the chase and grow weary when you have captured it But for now I finger the little objects here and there

111

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 111

12/01/11 5:19 PM

I have stolen from about the castle on our late-night walks trying to understand their shape in the darkness of my pockets as I once tried to piece together this Sultan’s watery words And I dangerously desire to share these petty conquests with my foolish little prince as he shares his poetry with me But I think better of it. There is time in plentiful abundance now as he says for the past There is no chase to be had today There is only the space between his lips and my ears Between my fingers and his heart narrowing with each breath Oh little prince Tonight we are both thieves stealing room in a world we long for but both deny ourselves.

112

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 112

12/01/11 5:19 PM

She Leaves a Poem in His Parapet But even the Sultan must sleep and the palace rest It has always been his weakness There is always one and that is when I strike just as I have before on the blade-thin edge between having and wanting Oh Prince your heart was the just the appetizer that led to a much tastier affair Rest now and prepare for the chase has just begun The desert is large dry and foreboding and it awaits your poetry with a thirst unknown Last time was just a stolen kiss a quick feel in a darkened place Do you know what true hunger tastes like Prince?

113

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 113

12/01/11 5:19 PM

I invite you to bring your tongue into the desert and beneath my petticoat to find out The desert is thirsty my dear one Do you have what it takes to whet it?

114

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 114

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Look Upon This with Full Eyes, Prince Awake you fool! The courtyard runs dry of pebbles and this thief’s aim is only so good. Alas another stone ricochets off the arched window of your poet’s perch high above and plummets deep into the lower networks of your byzantine domain. The pool is beautiful and so large it would be impossible to steal so ornate, heavy, and exotic it needs no chains to hold it down No, it merely lies there bathing in its own serene sense of invincibility Just like the Sultan just like the reason I stole his heart in the first place the fool . . . . . . you fool the desert heat hot in the peak of the night blows cool over the castle

115

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 115

12/01/11 5:19 PM

the sound of virgin water rustling in the evening breeze trickles over my ears like a million sweet nothings and yet you sleep as I scour the ground and potted palms for what few throwable trinkets remain! Don’t miss out on this one dear Sultan We both seek the same thing and you won’t want to miss this hustle Still the stones Clack! Clack! Clack! off the side of your room and nothing stirs inside. You are so thick and self-absorbed Sultan you can only chase and never be chased You carry yourself as if unburdened by your entitlement and yet all your belongings and even your natural handsomeness which even kings and princes cannot buy is worthless

116

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 116

12/01/11 5:19 PM

You have a strong nose and elegant beard but beauty is still common like shiny stones and the glint in your eye that has returned to light up your putrid dungeon is a jewel . . . but a jewel like I have seen in the eyes of all men when you show them a bit of this a bit of that . . . What fun is stealing from the man who has everything? It is all replaceable. And yet . . . oh I know this feeling well but at least I with so little have the chance to steal it whereas you started with everything and dream of losing it. Poor lost little boy Your arrogance firm and hard and resolute drives little princesses wild but is cheap and tawdry before more worldly women I want to take you in my arms and tell you how foolish you are 117

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 117

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Here’s another stone off the edge of your sleepy nest! Look around you and all that you have built Even in my absence as you chased me all these months you have thrown your money at useless things like the forbidden garden that only the gardener knows about and the bed of golden silk and this pool the only one of your gifts I really truly like You are arrogant enough to lead me around this palace without chains because your sense of modesty compels you to instruct your guards to leave their watch if ever I’m to enter the pool . . . Sultan . . . Prince . . . You have much to learn . . . Look here! I have escaped from your secret golden room My lust has returned sparked by you

118

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 118

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Just as I cannot ever steal your heart you cannot steal me Only we can let ourselves be caught! And here it is happening to you again! Finally the nimbleness of these fingers returns as the last of my little calling cards ricochets off your bedroom window and slips into your room like a snake I hear stirring and your bearded silhouette charming in its sleepy ruffle comes to the window to peer down upon me You say nothing as you so often do and there is just the three of us the moon and me and you gazing upon each other in silence for so long that even the moon gives up interest and begins to move on I step slowly backwards toward the pool shimmering in the midnight light 119

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 119

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Look upon this with full eyes, Prince before it is gone like all valuable things are . . . Suddenly the heat of the evening is sucked away and sounds fade as the water envelops me And this dress of incalculable fortune that you have crafted starts to unravel and unwind separating into strings as I swim naked from its grasp this virgin water welcoming me with lusty curiosity I push towards the heart of the pool smooth and silken as a dolphin at play letting you taste from far above all that you have missed Look upon this with full eyes, Prince before it is gone like all valuable things are . . .

120

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 120

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The Sultan Wakes The Sultan wakes from his dreams into a darkened room wondering where sleep had come from and why it has left just as suddenly At the window he stares down to the pool where the moon silhouettes and throws rippling beams of light over a figure peering up from the courtyard Where are the guards? he panics at the very moment he sees that they have left just as instructed upon the entrance of his midnight guest. The moon lights up a wry smile on her face far below the one he’d always imagined in his dreams described in reams of poetry but never saw until lately on their midnight strolls through the moon’s garden You say nothing as you so often do

121

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 121

12/01/11 5:19 PM

and there are just the three of us the moon and me and you gazing upon each other in silence for so long that even the moon gives up interest and begins to move on And then when we are all alone in this dry dry desert you steps backwards into the pool and are swallowed thirstily As if at the command of the Sultan’s desires you are caressed and soon stripped by its million tongues The dress that was never meant to find water unravels and fades away in the midnight waves. Your body, sleek and generously curved ripples naked and blue beneath the mouth of the moon hanging agape as he peeks out from his hiding spot behind the parapet His one eye opens full at the fuzzy suggestion of the truth beneath

122

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 122

12/01/11 5:19 PM

the petticoated thief’s petticoat She laughs in the echoing water and turns to peer up at the Sultan For moments the three of them sit there The Sultan without his kaftan The Thief without her petticoat The Moon frozen in the middle of its daily chase Her breasts and stomach only slightly obscured Her legs and hips and lips and all her beauty leave poetic words dry-mouthed and swallowing for just air let alone metre or rhyme and wondering just what it is she is planning to steal tonight Turning again the petticoat thief swims to the other edge of the pool and hops up, naked, onto the deck of the courtyard Dripping with water she walks slowly, teasingly to the ledge wall revealing herself and the creamy glow of her skin in the moonlight completely to him

123

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 123

12/01/11 5:19 PM

She looks out over the city the kingdom and as far as the eye can see can see Playfully turning her head over her shoulder she peers up at the Sultan her long brown hair tumbling down her back beads of light clinging desperately to her shape quivering in the moon’s gaze before tumbling down to the watery reflection of perfection gathering at her feet She smiles coyly . . . then leaps over the rampart and is gone in a moment! The moon caught off guard casts its light on the Sultan but does not uncover the expression of shock expected discovering instead the dawn of a sly grin gone so long from this land blossoming on the Sultan’s lips so the moon delays morning to watch on in bewilderment as the Sultan lingers at the window of his parapet following her black figure

124

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 124

12/01/11 5:19 PM

as it shrinks and shrinks into the distance until her quick silhouette starts to slip out of even the moon’s ever-reaching reach and she flickers over distant dunes and disappears like a mirage on the thin, thirsty tip of the horizon. Suddenly as the moon is finally slipping into bed the Sultan breaks from his ledge and takes to the spiral stone steps that lead to his perch at the apex of his palace Step after step to the room where he keeps his poetry and has called out over the city these many many times He halts at the doorway upon discovery of all his poetry ream after ream page after page line after line gone!

125

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 125

12/01/11 5:19 PM

And then that curious smile that only the spiders and the rats in the dead of night have seen alights once more upon his lips Oh you petty little thief! He leaps to the window and calls out into the last few waves of darkness lifting the veil from over the city that has slept through so many evenings Don’t think you’re getting off that easy little miss disappearing trick You play your first attempt as the wisened thief well but are still nothing less than a petty criminal used to stuffing shampoo bottles up under her skirt In way over her head and running too fast to know it yet.

126

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 126

12/01/11 5:19 PM

127

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 127

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Best Before For forty days and forty nights that fridge rattled in the empty echoes of the kitchen. The dearth of food in its belly biblical in proportions. And on the forty-first day a loud clang burst forth through the abandoned house gas hissed from its chilled creases and the refrigerator set still. Still. Dreaming of the distant future when its door would hang ajar by one hinge and vines would frolic along the crevassed nuances of its corrugated interior when rain would fill her like a bathtub a swimming-pool-cum-breeding-ground for mysterious insects In retirement but still a thousand years shy of shuffling off this frigid coil.

128

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 128

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Just the Handshake He didn’t really need to touch them. He didn’t need to see the faces of those carrying the guns of those sucking in the bullet. He just made a series of calls . . . Connecting person A to person B from undisclosed location C. He met politicians in fancy hotels Bought a lunch here and there Called partners friends when they both knew they were just . . . partners — not in crime, technically — but . . . in shadows. And he’d put his new friends in contact with other friends who were anything but and together they’d swim through loopholes travelling in jeeps over policy paper Möbius strips He never saw the money. Never signed the transaction. His name would never be found . . . He was a ghost

129

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 129

12/01/11 5:19 PM

a warm wind blowing favourable conditions: The politicians and manufacturers in one direction The buyers and mongers in another . . . not to mention a few excess grains into his bank account. He was a salesman without a shop A broker between people who shouldn’t be talking He used to be a doctor . . . now he made a living facilitating handshakes. He didn’t need to see the faces of those carrying the guns of those sucking in the bullet He never touched the arms. He focused only on the handshake.

130

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 130

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The Drop The baggage manifold is full to overflowing but up and down the aisles the seats are empty Our fearless pilot squints grimly at the tarmac unrolled ahead of him waiting for the watchtower’s call while the stewardess is sleeping with the co-pilot in row 10 her skirt riding up over her hips as his tongue tries desperately to rip a way through to heaven flicks up and down the seam of mesh rubbing desperately against the throbbing of her sex no, no . . . not now she begs, whispers when the seatbelt sign comes on and she pushes harder against his lips. The seat begins to rumble as our grim pilot rolls down the runway jolting the lovers in their compacted embrace.

131

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 131

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Rattling, rocking and assisted by turbulence his tongue finds its way through to the chime of fasten-your-seatbelts and her thighs buckle him in until the rumbling abates then stops. They are airborne her back arching in the seat while our grim pilot curses over the intercom “Dammit Higgins! Where are you man?!” But she clamps harder to pinch out the world fading, fading below them and with two fistfuls of hair she trembles in her own body forgetting where this plane is headed not really caring not really sure she ever knew anyway. When the seatbelt sign goes off they tumble into the aisleway gorging their lungs on canned air like fish out of water This would be easier

132

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 132

12/01/11 5:19 PM

in Business Class but so empty of challenge She’s slept in too many beds . . . Touched down in acres of fields . . . Intimacy requires restriction conflict borders and boundaries to be broken and crossed “Higgins! Higgins? Are you there?” But Higgins’s heavy breathing and the hiss from the overhead vents drowns out room for any reply “I’m releasing the hatch now . . .” the pilot warns and they climb back into the seats the swelling seam of his ruffled slacks pressed tightly against the fullness of her skirt as she bends to peer out the porthole His hand roaming over her belly they hear the click and watch the bags tumbling from the undercarriage a parade of leather and plastic rippling in the wind

133

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 133

12/01/11 5:19 PM

and shrinking in the distance A shower of packaged possessions One bursts open in the atmosphere: a daytime fireworks display of pink panties blue gonch orange ties yellow bras white shoes red socks glasses, lotions, razors, jewelry . . . “Higgins . . . Higgins? Are you out there?” the pilot calls again to their empty little world “Karina? Is Higgins there . . . ? Hello? Karina . . . ?” his voice, fading away trickles down the hall as the last bag blinks out in the clouds Karina rolls around in her seat grabs his tie and plants her lips fully, wetly, perfectly on his . . .

134

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 134

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Later on they’ll disable the detector and share a smoke in the washroom rolling the clouds in their mouths sharing silence and absentmindedly picking at the warning labels scattered across the little room later on . . . later on . . . later on . . .

135

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 135

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The Urn This urn ornate and shapely sits in the back of a dusty barn among so many other pots each having been filled for its purpose many reused, dirtied, scratched some broken some broken, cracked but still satisfied their purpose has been discovered and set in clay but far in the back this urn ornate and shapely sits quietly forgotten and strange its shape too unusual to suggest an obvious use its size too large its markings too unique its condition too fresh to be tossed around to be filled with dirt It’s as if the potter in a fit of frustration

136

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 136

12/01/11 5:19 PM

or free time threw practicality to the wind and whirled together this dream of maddening curves and cunning shapes a useless aberration to satisfy his own desires giving purpose to the potter giving purpose to the making and leaving none left for the urn . . . Until one morning in a thousand mornings that never touch this barn the potter’s daughter cracks open the giant wooden doors and comes weaving her way through the labyrinth of cracked and cluttered clay rolling, lugging, tugging and dragging all the other pots and all their obvious purposes out of the way clearing a path towards . . . towards . . . Clearing a path through pots so heavy they would surely crush her brittle frame if they toppled towards . . .

137

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 137

12/01/11 5:19 PM

. . . this urn! whose nonexistent heart plunges deep within its voluminous chambers as her wild eyes and spidery fingers near methodically . . . determinedly . . . until . . . for the first time this urn feels the uncomfortable tingling sensation of his heart rising bobbing up on something terrible inside to lodge in the stopgap of his throat choking the flow of the scream he trembles to emit The daughter’s hands a mere fraction of the size of her father’s tranquil palms whose sure and calming touch this urn knows so well grab the thick rim of his mouth as if that were the way he was meant to be grabbed and rock him back and forth on the base of his feet towards the door slowly . . . onerously . . . past all the other vessels and all their collective purposes as if he were meant to be rocked

138

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 138

12/01/11 5:19 PM

And this urn like all urns has a mouth but cannot shout in trepidation and cannot ask what task she has in store . . . To fill him with wine for the king’s seven princesses? To drain water from a dam surely to overflow and wash away the village? To cook a glorious stew for all the woodland’s creatures? No! No! This urn is already full! with dread and fear and even the sunshine flooding in through the doorway like a waterfall cannot illuminate his doubt now floating at the bottom of his gloomy depths

139

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 139

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Little girl! Even at this moment of long-awaited selection I have sat so long I could not satisfy the simple straightforward demands of an adult let alone your overflowing heart though I could easily fit you and all your little dreams inside you would surely drown in this new black mess that swims within! Little girl! This urn has no idea how to be of use to you! But the potter’s daughter oblivious to everything but the possibility of today rocks him out the door and into the mud of the pasture anyway.

14 0

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 140

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The Big Thaw She slept in two sweaters and wool socks with a Hudson’s Bay blanket thrown over the down duvet And when it became extra cold in the mornings she began tucking her bra into the bed with her like a lover to keep it warm for her rising Then she thought, Why not my dress pants too? And next thing she knew tomorrow’s socks were sleeping with her as well An entire family of clothing and accessories until every night she had a full wardrobe nestled up under there. But why stop at that? she wondered one night It was really just too bad that she couldn’t tuck the entire house under the covers because it got so cold at night and the bike path to work, too that seized her nipples solid when the wind took up would make a nice addition

141

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 141

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Hell, her desk at work could join them tucked between her legs so she wouldn’t even have to get up to ride on the path in the first place and instead she could use the warmed-up route for afternoon walks All of it Everything It could all go underneath the covers And while she was at it the office could come too the coffee maker her boat for rowing club and the boathouse might as well arm in arm with the little café she liked to visit for lattes after those frozen Saturday mornings on the lake. Warm in her bed she wondered why she couldn’t stuff it all under there? make it all her own instead of the way it was with everything outside the bed cold and needing to be warmed up.

142

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 142

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The Failed Experiment When the two lab-coated scientists finally gave their robot its heart it blew its brains out at just the memory of how hollow it had once been leaving behind only this little data readout clinched between its rubbery fingertips “Query: Is it enough to be alive? Or is it too much to ask to feel alive?” and eventually the two lab-coated scientists blew their brains out because in all their years of searching prodding, poking, and measuring they could never find an answer

14 3

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 143

12/01/11 5:19 PM

All Your Questions Don’t worry ladies and gentlemen You’ll all get a chance Please don’t push He will be here soon to answer all your questions Yes, all your questions What? Yes, ma’am. Yes, our guest can answer that question Yes, and — what? Yes, yes, he can answer that too What? Well . . . why would you ask a question like that? But will he answer it? Yes, of course. He can answer ALL your questions! All of them, any question you can possibly conceive the small, small ones to the greatest mysteries of the universe Finally! An answer to everything. You can ask until your brain has run dry of questions. And he will answer them all. I guarantee that for once the answers will outmatch the questions!

14 4

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 144

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Who IS our guest? Ha ha! Well he can answer that question too! No. I can’t tell you. That’s not my job. I don’t know. Nobody told me. No. Nobody told me. It’s — it’s not my job to answer questions. No. He’s — it’s a surprise guest! Trust me, ladies and gentlemen, all will be revealed very soon. If you’ll just have a little — Don’t push, please! Please, ladies and gentlemen. If you’ll — just a little patience and all your questions will be answered! No. It won’t be much longer. I don’t know. Five minutes? Ten? Thirty seconds? I don’t know how much longer you will have to wait. I’m just the — Please don’t push! I don’t answer the questions. There’ll be plenty of time! Yes, he’ll be able to answer all of your — What, sir? Yes, I know. I know there are a lot of you and I assure you he will he will not leave until each and every one of you has been satisfied But . . . don’t push! You’ll all get a chance to ask your questions . . .

14 5

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 145

12/01/11 5:19 PM

But he won’t until — How can you expect him to come out when you’re all screaming and shouting and pushing? You need to be . . . No! No! Don’t push! Oh no! No! You’re . . . you’re crushing people here! You’re crushing! This person in the fron — Patience! Patience please! People can’t . . . people can’t they’re getting trampled! they’re If you’ll just calm . . . Calm! Please!! People can’t PEOPLE CAN’T BRE — You’re crushing us! You’re If you’ll just wait . . . wait . . . crushing . . . PEOPLE CAN’T B . . . I CAN’T BREATHE!!!!! I CAN’T — PEOPLE CAN’T BR . . .

14 6

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 146

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The Last Generation Everyone’s talking about the ’80s these days Going back to the future But I think they’ve forgotten was it was really like Or choose to forget Or were never ever there in the first place Because the ’80s was just the poor, dusty ’70s who thought it was new and dressed up pretty flashy because the ’80s thought it would be the last generation and wanted to go out with a bang. But then the ’90s came and the ’80s spent a decade in a depressive funk because its time had gone Its bang just another stylized puff — another generational package of quirky fashions and temporal stereotypes fading into the past — or so the ’80s thought — until the end of the millennium when it suddenly rebounded out the other end of the Generational Hole with a glorious idea What if it could be the ’80s again?

147

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 147

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The Great Indian The Great Indian lay in the ground smoking his peace pipe and blowing shapes into the sky The Great Indian who was but a giant face in the earth staring eternally into the heavens his distinctive chin and nose, the sharp crest of his Mohawk, but curious shapes in the mountainside blew figures that could quell the stormy hearts of even the angriest men: Rabbits Flowers Bar-B-Que parties Breasts Giant feasts meant to conquer the appetites of gods! Clouds in the shape of every possible dream-wish An unending treasure box of gifts for all . . .

14 8

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 148

12/01/11 5:19 PM

The Great Indian rested in the ground puffing these dreams of peace into the sky with his pipe. How was he to know that people on the ground spent so little time looking up?

14 9

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 149

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Crash landing The plane touched down in Madagascar bouncing over sand dunes until the landing gear snapped snagged in a dune and ripped a hole through the tender underbelly of the winged beast Gravity took its lusty revenge until the ship slid to a stop and nestled snugly in a warm blanket of sand With the motor still running blowing whirlwinds of golden dust up before it the pilot stumbled out of the single seat crumpling to the desert floor and painting the grains a brilliant, scarlet red blood that shone in the sun like wine Such an offering to such a thirsty desert which drank and drank his final breaths until the pilot expired and the propeller went with him some two hours later

150

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 150

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Restart? On a sunny Sunday afternoon computer games had eaten away most of the day and after a particularly gruesome Demise the third or forth one at the hands of the same grisly enemy our hero turned away from the keyboard rested his chin in a propped-up palm and stared out the window feeling as if he was dying another death altogether.

151

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 151

12/01/11 5:19 PM

A brief history of Gandhi Gandhi. He was a lawyer. He was a vegetarian. A non-violent terrorist who walked four hundred miles in a protest over salt. He was Gandhi whose righteous indignation was stoked in the fires of South Africa and imported home. The man. The myth. The legend. When he had sex with his wife his father died and so he became celibate. Sometimes he’d lie down with a thousand naked women for hours willing himself with all his might not to get an erection. Gandhi. He was a vegetarian lawyer and he went to jail for his beliefs. He didn’t agree with untouchables.

152

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 152

12/01/11 5:19 PM

He thought we should be able to touch everything. And he wondered why Indians should fight against the Nazis for democracy when Indians weren’t allowed democracy themselves. He was a non-violent terrorist vegetarian lawyer. He was the man becoming the myth that would create the legend and in his spare time he freed India by refusing to eat. Not long after India was granted independence and split into two countries Pakistan and India Gandhi was shot by someone who didn’t like Pakistanis. And Gandhi’s last words were “Oh God.” Gandhi. He was a lawyer. He was a vegetarian. A non-violent terrorist who walked four hundred miles in a protest over salt and struggled day to day with erections.

153

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 153

12/01/11 5:19 PM

When he was shot his last words were “Oh God.” They are inscribed on his tombstone.

154

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 154

12/01/11 5:19 PM

We  Robot It descended upon the earth and demanded the love of a thousand Japanese schoolgirls Or the city would be destroyed Of course the politicians were outraged Not their daughters! Not their dishwashers and prostitutes! Not their future wives and concubines! Not their comfort women and tea-pourers! The beauty of that skin stretched over those kneecaps That hair, oh so trendily cut! The pleated skirts The smoking lips and fuck-me-if-I-care attitude! The innocent minds yet barely aware of alcohol, sex, algebra! No! It was an outrage! It was an insult! But in the ensuing blaze of laser beams order soon crumbled and the walking toupees

155

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 155

12/01/11 5:19 PM

cowered beneath their desks What could they do? How could they give away their daughters to this cruel emotionless beast!? How could they choose a thousand girls? How could they choose even one? And as they endlessly debated this a thousand schoolgirls gathered outside the parliament Banging and Screaming Holding banners aloft Stomping! Shouting! Declaring! We Love Robot! We Love Robot! We Love Robot! They were ready to give themselves up for the future of the city And besides they all agreed that Gigantic Robot was pretty cute! And to the amazement of the walking toupees and automated comb-overs the automatic pencil pushers and subway car riders

156

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 156

12/01/11 5:19 PM

the legion of schoolgirls baked a giant strawberry shortcake and mailed it to Gigantic Robot who was so touched it brought a greasy tear to its eye And forthwith the thousand schoolgirls presented themselves in their long socks and skimpy, skimpy skirts with their streaked hair and white lipstick and they climbed up into Gigantic Robot’s chest cavity. The Gigantic Robot thanked the city for its kindness and then looted the entertainment district for photo-sticker machines before burning off into space driven by the hearts of a thousand Japanese schoolgirls And back on Earth the politicians pulled themselves together congratulating themselves for saving yet another day and erected a monument to Gigantic Robot and the hearts of a thousand Japanese schoolgirls.

157

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 157

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 158

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Some Thoughts on Some Poems “On the Trail of Ibn Battuta”: Ibn Battuta was a great Muslim explorer who spent several decades in the 1300s wandering the known Muslim world. Ibn Battuta is also a mall built in Dubai in his honour, with seven sections each devoted to one of the seven parts of the world Battuta traveled to. Nestled, like a watch stand or sunglasses hut, between the boutiques and food outlets of this ostentatious mall (if sultans shopped, you’d expect to find them shopping here) is this little museum that focuses on the travels of Ibn Battuta. I guess that on some level, as shoppers, we’re supposed to be Ibn Battutas ourselves . . . only instead of needing thirty years, all you need is a couple of hours, and instead of spreading the good word of Mohammed, you’re helping to bolster the economy. God, I love the modern world. “The Secret”: This is the first explicitly narrative poem I ever wrote. An early version of “The Big Shot” was written about a year before (2003-ish), but I consider it more an autobiographical poem than a poem written to convey a story. Anyway, I had no idea that “The Secret” would lead to many more (and increasingly lengthy) poetic-narrative adventures. But, just for posterity’s sake, I thought I’d let it be known that I consider this one the first. “All Your Questions”: This poem was inspired by the “somniloquies” of Dion McGregor. Dion McGregor

159

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 159

12/01/11 5:19 PM

(1922–1994) had a strange condition where he talked in his sleep. Not like you or I might talk in our sleep, but all the time and at full volume. In fact, Dion McGregor more or less narrated his entire night’s sleep . . . every night . . . for the entirety of his life. His roommate, with whom he lived in New York (you can faintly hear the street traffic outside their window in most recordings), became so obsessed with Dion’s narratives that he recorded thousands and thousands of hours of the stuff, perhaps hoping it was a key to fame and fortune. The dreams are fascinating stuff, and three albums (by my count) have been produced, collecting his strangest, funniest, and, sometimes, most poignant somniloquies. As he only plays the part of one character at a time in his dreams (though sometimes he switches viewpoints), you only sort of piece together the narrative of his dreams after several listens. Most of his dreams end up with Dion screaming and waking up. Completely incidental to this, the two men were also largely unsuccessful songwriters but fame and fortune, though brief, came to them in 1965 when they penned a Barbara Streisand hit, “Where Is the Wonder?” Thankfully, like all great weird artists, they died in obscurity. May we all be so lucky. “The Great Indian”: This poem was inspired by a mountain peak in the Crowsnest Pass, Alberta, which always looked to me like an Indian chief lying down

160

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 160

12/01/11 5:19 PM

and staring up at the sky. Lying on my porch one night, I was just randomly thinking about him and wondering what he thought about as he stared at the clouds all day. And maybe his pipe was responsible for the clouds themselves. And maybe, if we were all like the chief, taking time to lay on our backs and imagine pictures out of cloud fluff, we’d be a happier planet. But the chief is a sentimental optimist, and perhaps so am I . . . “Restart?”: There initially was a second part to this poem. I think it’s better off without it, but in case you’re curious, here it is: Day after day . . . Pac-Man didn’t eat pellets but swallowed suns Pac-Man didn’t provide answers . . . but neither did Mother Nature There were no keys to collect no enemies to defeat or obvious objectives no conclusion to reach for no rising from the dead And though he enjoyed every moment of it still he mourned the passing of the sun before turning back to the screen and taking on one more easily accomplishable quest.

161

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 161

12/01/11 5:19 PM

“A Brief History of Gandhi”: Hopefully this poem won’t make me go to hell. It’s probably the most facetious poem I’ve ever written. And I guess that’s the point. Why am I so damned facetious? I don’t know. But, that said, I wrote the poem just for kicks, and hesitated putting it in this collection — largely because I felt like people wouldn’t get it, and I wasn’t particularly keen on publicly ridiculing one of the few political revolutionary figures I felt was actually worth looking up to. But every time I came back to the poem, I felt like it needed to be shared. Why? I’m not sure, aside from the fact that it’s entertaining and subversive. But for those of you who might want a more academic explanation, here is why I think the poem was worth including. History is more fiction than fact. It’s not written by the victors or the losers but by people who actually care what people in the future will think about the events that happened. And human beings like to pour a lot of hubris onto the things they do. The “facts” of truth, just by the way you present them, can be crafted to create wildly different conclusions. Gandhi was a dedicated visionary whose achievements made an incredible difference in his and millions of other people’s lives — and yet look how easily it is to make him look like a fool in a foolish history while still remaining true to the essential facts of his life. I find that really interesting . . . and funny. Additionally, the thing I like about Gandhi’s story is that it IS so crazy. When I heard that “Oh God” is

162

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 162

12/01/11 5:19 PM

inscribed on his tombstone, I thought it was terribly funny . . . and fitting for a man who seemed to make no pretension to his own greatness. Even when he was shot, he didn’t bother with some pompous soliloquy but just said what any of us would probably say if we’d been shot! At the same time, his words could have been meant to express his knowing fear of what was to happen to India in the following decades — or at least interpreted that way.* So why Gandhi? I dunno. Because we share the same birthday? Because I happened to know a little bit about him? Because I thought he’d be the one most likely to forgive me? Because he’s so far above contempt that people wouldn’t misconstrue this poem as actually making fun of Gandhi? Because making fun of Mother Teresa would just be too much? Who knows. Sometimes they just come out . . . and I try not to self-censor. Maybe nobody will get this poem. Probably some people will hate me for it. I’m crazy, and I probably will go to hell. But as good as Gandhi was, I bet you he’s there too. A note on The Three Amigos and The Sultan Poems: The creative process can inspire itself, and The Sultan Poems and the Three Amigos sections of this * Actually, my editor (wise to the ways of both grammar and Sanskrit) tells me that the actual inscription is “He Ra-m,” which, while frequently translated as “Oh God,” does not carry the same connotations of “Oh no!” “He Ra-m” is a bit more reverent, closer to “dear God.” So there you have it — who ever said poetry wasn't educational?

163

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 163

12/01/11 5:19 PM

collection are good examples of where this has happened. The Sultan Poems, in particular, started off as one poem — “The Sultan’s Heart.” But a few weeks later I started wondering, “What would happen when the Sultan got his heart back?” And once I’d written “The Sultan’s Epiphany,” I started wondering . . . “Well, what’s the thief’s side of the story?” Then I wanted more and envisioned a complete storyline told in six poems, which then became 10, 16, 19! I was honestly worried it wasn’t going to stop! The Three Amigos is similar but less strictly narrative. It started off with “El Mexicano,” which quickly engendered an obsession with Mexican culture, or a romantic “Orientalist” (South Americanist?) version of it. Unlike The Sultan Poems, this series is a looser narrative — I see these three characters inhabiting the same story space, but one that is less important than the characters themselves and up to the reader to imagine. I’ve been experimenting a lot with this type of story­telling — where individual poems stack up to create a larger world — and am finding it very satisfying from a fiction-writing standpoint. It takes the fluid, free-thinking greatness of poetry and marries it to the interrelational and immersive appeal of storytelling. In fact, some of the other poems in this collection have since inspired more poems related to them — I seem to have a fascination with robots lately. So maybe at some point you’ll see Zeus and the Giant Robot . . . if I can ever convince a publisher to go for that!

164

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 164

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Special Thanks I would like to thank the following peoples or institutions for support and/or for publishing my work in the past: Walter Hildebrandt for believing in and pushing for my work, Julie Ray for inspiration and for pushing me to push myself, Michele McDannold for oh so much help on redfez.net, Manijeh Mannani for encouraging me to submit my manuscript to Athabasca University Press and being very gentle with her well-focused suggestions for improvements to the collection, as well as Pamela, Natalie and Tiffany, also at AU Press, for their friendly help in making the book you hold in your hands look so damn good (and hopefully sell as well!), Richard Olafson at Ekstasis Editions for taking a chance on this crazy poet before anybody else would, Feathertale for helping me polish and then for publishing “A Good Day,” the Edmonton Poetry Festival for always having a spot for me, Ashok Niyogi for introducing me to India, and ongoing thanks to a whole slew of poets too numerous to mention here for being sounding boards, inspirations, friends, supporters, contributors, helpers, and more in my literary journey.

165

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 165

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 166

12/01/11 5:19 PM

About the Author People change and an author bio is just a slice in time In previous bios Leopold was a son of academics a literary activist and international traveler the author of one, two then three books of fiction and a book of poetry People change and writing an author bio is like trying to catch a day between two chopsticks

167

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 167

12/01/11 5:19 PM

like trying to be a lover a poet of immodest fame and reward Leopold is rarely on time for work not Leopold’s first name less stubborn than he used to be the author of this book. People change and in the future this bio will be outdated before Leopold can become a robot with a heart for a brain a Mexican with a gourd full of tequila the Sultan of Orientalism not embarrassed by this bio a fond memory.

168

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 168

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Other Junk Hey, if you liked this, you can find links to much more stuff at www.leopoldmcginnis.com and watch some YouTube videos at youtube.com/reotord. Or look out for these other books by yours truly: Poetry Poetaster Fiction Bad Attitude Game Quest The Red Fez

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 169

12/01/11 5:19 PM

Colophon This book was set in Officina, designed by Eric Spiekermann and issued in 1990 through ITC. The other typeface is Refrigerator.

Zeus_and_the_Giant_Iced_Tea_Interior.indd 170

12/01/11 5:19 PM